Anubis Mess Hall. (bendy)

[privateproperty]

It was a popular Orion variation on an old Earth dish served up in the mess hall that night. Adapted to fit the ingredients the ship'd picked up at an agricultural colony. She'd made two batches, one with sausage mixed with the seasoned beans and rice, one without, since so many of the federation were averse to unreplicated animal flesh.
Her master was handling himself well, of course, all things considered. She'd fed him and seen him off again, looking forward to later that night, when she could provide more than a hot meal to ease the stress.
She turned her attention to the next arrival.
"The meat is real, lieutenant. Would you prefer with or without?"

Comments

[bipolar_bolian]

"Is it now? I do prefer meat that exists in reality as opposed to replicated proteins and the like, so I'll go with," Takerah said, trying to give the meal a decent enough of a look. It looked it be a mostly human dish, but the makings were a bit odd for tell. She also gave the green woman a quick look, curious about her. Takerah had been busy, so she hadn't been able to get a decent look at many of the crew. This one didn't have a uniform, though. After a moment of thinking, Takerah took a shot as to who this person was.

"You're employed by the Klingon attache, yes?"

[privateproperty]

Dahlfes dished up some from the appropriate kettle. "Yes, Ma'am, I'm contracted to Commander Kri'Stak. Would you like a little extra acetic acid on that?" The lieutenant was Bolian after all, and Dahlfes had some right on hand; she'd seasoned it extra for her master.

[bipolar_bolian]

Takerah gave the food an appreciative sniff. It may not have been properly to her liking, but this would have sufficed had not there been a mention of acetic acid. It wasn't like letting the meat get properly aged to her liking, but it was a solid enough substitute.

"Yes, I would, actually. In fact, if you could get the whole of the plate with a bit of it, I would be most appreciative."

[privateproperty]

After two years, Dahlfes's is fairly confident in her mass production skills, but she's had to turn down the seasoning a bit for such a varied staff, and in the end, she still feels best at individualized attention. Which she will quickly provide, giving a generous sprinkling from the bottle without wasting any. "You're very welcome. I suspected this would come in handy."

[bipolar_bolian]

There is another sniff, this one a deep one. It may not have been a meal with the properly rotten meat, but it was a decent enough smell that it even got her mouth watering. She let the acid soak in a bit more, before moving to the side a bit and grabbing a utensil. There was tentative poking of the foodstuff before it was brought up and chewed on. It was...different, but it was certainly not bad.

"I'm surprised that you would know human dishes with the time you have spent with Klingons."

This was made not as a condemnation, but an observation.

[privateproperty]

"Old human dishes are very fashionable in the Orion Colonies, Ma'am, especially during my training. My hutch had a strong policy of preparing its girls for anything."

[bipolar_bolian]

"Ah. I see."

Takerah knew a little bit of what an Orion hutch was. For as much as her people loved being part of the Federation and gave a big hurrah for what they stood for, far too many of it's institutions were firmly entrenched in poor relationships.

In particular was the Bank of Bolias, a company that often called for her fathers skills. She may not have seen a hutch directly, but Takerah knew what they were.

[privateproperty]

Dahlfes is trained at reading microexpressions on any species with whom business might be done. Which does indeed include Bolians.

Dahlfes shouldn't have said it like that. Dahlfes was proud of the quality of her training, but the woman was, like many Feds, unhappy with some of the broad general principles involving life-contractors.
This emphasizing of the situation could reflect on the woman's ability to work with Kri'Stak. And they wouldn't be allowed to hash out any tensions by beating the stuffing out of each other. This difficult situation for him might be harder, and it would be her fault.

"...The Commander never did business with them," she said very quietly. "Simply for your information, Ma'am. He and I were brought together by circumstances."

[bipolar_bolian]

It took a few seconds for Takerah to get just what had happened, but once it was clear that the Orion read her like a book she shifted her body language and face to an immediate neutral tone. She may have some problems with such things, but she can fake it. Benefits of being a diplomats daughter.

"I meant no disrespect to the commander. It is more a rather...general annoyance with a well known institution and it's inability to not follow the desires of it's people in the pursuit of profit," Takerah said, her voice even but showing the slight hint of annoyance.

[privateproperty]

"Oh." she nods. "I'm sure that's very complicated and vexing, Ma'am."
She's relieved it's not the more directly-relevant problem she assumed.

[bipolar_bolian]

"It is quite vexing. And it was just in your mention of hutches that my memory was jogged. It was little more than a memory association. Nothing intended, and as I said before, no harm meant."

The last bit seemed a bit rushed, as if Takerah was trying to get it all out before something was triggered. But with the annoyance and the timing, it may well be that her own...situation may be starting to reverse itself and become the more aggressive swing. She internally cursed herself before coming back to the situation.

"If you wish, you can sit and have a meal with me. I would not mind some company."

[privateproperty]

Dahlfes checks over a few things before stepping to the corner of the serving area. "Thank you, ma'am, if you don't mind my staying close in case anything needs to be attended to."

It was better than standing there waiting for the next meal shift, and Bolians were often reasonably normal for Feds.

...which might be part of the woman's vexation.

[bipolar_bolian]

"I don't mind staying close," Takerah says as she finds a place within viewing distance of the serving area. "My name is Takerah, by the way. I don't believe I've caught yours."

[privateproperty]

"Dahlfes. Good to meet you, of course."

[bipolar_bolian]

"It is a pleasure to meet you too," Takerah responded in kind, going back to the old words of her father when he interacted with humans. It was a quirk of the Bolian language: pleasantries like stating pleasure of acquaintance and the like were already implied within the language itself. So for anyone trying to translate, there was an important layer that was missing, so some Bolian ambassadors made it a point to ensure that the proper Niceties were followed.

[privateproperty]

And Dahlfes will have a few bites of her small serving, keeping one eye to make sure she isn't needed.

"The next time we get meat, Ma'am, I'll make sure to let some sit out in advance."

[bipolar_bolian]

"That would be appreciated, although I believe I'm one of the only Bolians on the ship. It would be unnecessary," Takerah said as she started eating. Letting the taste of the food rest for a bit, she finds it satisfying but not overly so. An annoyance, and on that's a bit intensified by what she is certain is a swing towards aggression.

[privateproperty]

"It wouldn't be that difficult, and a nice change after years of cooking rather monolithically."

[bipolar_bolian]

"I suppose that is true. I take it you know quite a few tricks in dealing with the Klingon palate," Takerah said as she ate a bit more. There is a bit of an edge to her voice while the far too ripe food, even with the acetic acid, hit a place that was irking her.

[privateproperty]

"Yes, Ma'am. It's a job where one learns quickly. Klingons do not react well if they think the gagh has been overwashed or underseasoned."

[bipolar_bolian]

"If they think it's been overwashed? That sounds quite..."

Takerah paused for a moment, trying to find the right word.

"...unfortunate. Your boss must be quite the person to keep your loyalty."

[privateproperty]

"Isolated incidents, fortunately, Ma'am. And yes, he is." She smiles. Not that her loyalty would have been easily withdrawn were he not an incredible person, but one didn't try to explain that to Feds.

[bipolar_bolian]

"Isolated it may be, but it doesn't minimal-" Takerah started, but as she was talking her utensil met the plate at a bad angle and forced a good deal of the food to spill both onto the table and into her lap.

"Tissaeriim!" Takerah swears in a phrase that doesn't translate well with the Translator. But in an instant, her face takes on a bright blue as she gets up and heads in the direction of the cleaning supplies.

[privateproperty]

"I can handle that, Ma'am," Dahlfes says, scurrying from her seat, grabbing a few things, and dropping to tidy up the floor, at least.

[bipolar_bolian]

"It's fine, Dahlfes," Takerahs says as she reaches the rags and cleaning supplies and starts to apply them to her uniform. Her shift was due to start soon and having a dirty uniform would simply Not Do. And while the fabric was stain resistant, it was not stain proof. So the wiping commenced. At least it was seeming to come up easily enough.

[privateproperty]

"...all right, Ma'am." And Dahlfes will give her some space.

[bipolar_bolian]

The wiping of the uniform will continue, but the time getting it cleaned up helps a bit. It's therapeutic to see the potential stain slowly getting worked out of her red and black uniform.

Still, there's still a bit of an edge.

"Sorry about spilling what you made me, Dahlfes," Takerah manages to get out once the uniform is rubbed to at least minor point of satisfaction.

[privateproperty]

"Thank you, Ma'am. These things happen."

[bipolar_bolian]

"Just...it happened at the worst possible time. What's the human turn of phrase? Mackreys Law? Anything that can go bad, will go bad in the worst possible way?"

Takerah sighed a bit. The edge was starting to leave.

"Do Klingons or Orions have a word for that? We don't."

[privateproperty]

"Klingons say 'omens of an interesting life,' Ma'am. The devout believe adversity will help them be more like Kahless," Dahlfes says with a slightly distant look. "Orions, we have long adapted the human phrase, Murphy's Law, yes." The lieutenant had asked what it was, so Dahlfes had to speak accurately, but she was far too much an Orion to correct a kindofsortof superior directly. "Murphy was a human god of nightmares."

[bipolar_bolian]

"Murphy was a human god of nightmares? But...I've known a human named Murphy. Why would a human name their child after a god of nightmares?"

Takerah may have had some experience with human culture, but there were times where she had to just marvel at it's weirdness.

[privateproperty]

"I do not know, Ma'am. Maybe his parents did not have a religious education?"

[bipolar_bolian]

"Takerah, please," Takerah says to the "ma'am."

"I suppose so, but it just strikes me as odd that would happen. Perhaps the Murphey I knew grew up where Murphey the God wasn't known about?"